The Frantic Search

May 13, 2008

By Mary H., Cincinnati, OH

NOTE: This work was written by five of us (Lauren C, Mary H, Sarah K, Theresa M, and Bridgette S), but I have the permission to submitt it

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Heart pounding, Jack shoveled through bills and papers on the kitchen counter, searching frantically for the allusive metallic jingle. Francis, in the back seat of their minivan, jammed her palm into the horn, blaring and screaming from the pain of the labor. He jumped with a gasp and yelped, “I’m coming!” His head raced with thoughts, beating his mind for where he last set his keys. Jack felt a hot rush of blood flood his cheeks. Where could they be? He let out a hollow grunt as a glass of water tipped, flooding the table. Then, turning on his heel, Jack ran towards the couch, with each thumping heartbeat a ticking clock. He stumbled on the leg of a dining room chair and continued forward, limping and toe ringing. Jack shoved their old golden retriever aside and made the last few steps to the couch, determined to find the keys among its cushions. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he saw something, something shiny under the sofa. The glimmer stood out from the mess of abandoned skittles and napkins. A tiny grin of relief swept his face. He had found them. Kneeling on the dusty floor, Jack stretched his arm as far as he could, desperately groping for the keys. His sweaty face pressed against the side of the leathery couch, and with a rush of triumph, his fingers clasped them. Gasping for air, Jack ran out of the disheveled house, keys in hand.

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